The Princess and the What, Now?
by wryter501
Summary: Once upon a time in a kingdom far away... writing believable fiction with relatable characters and a plot-line that makes sense, is a lot harder than it seems...


**The Princess and the… What, Now?**

(a very rough draft)

Once upon a time in a kingdom far away…

_(Note to Self: series of kingdoms? At least two – and it should be more than two if the second kingdom doesn't know who the MC is when she arrives…)_

…lived a beautiful vivacious princess who always spoke her mind because honesty is the best policy and transparency in the ruler of a kingdom is…

Becoming onerous to her council, at least.

_(NtS: If she's an orphan, it would explain her lack of manners later…)_

So they took a vote and disavowed the princess and because she had taken no pains to ingratiate herself with her populace – or at least the second-tier-below-royalty – she found herself without shelter. So she did what any arrogant, previously-entitled disposed-royalty would do in her situation – she headed for the nearest castle, expecting to be comforted in the style to which she had become accustomed.

_(If her own kingdom and council knows her to be a pampered brat, perhaps this is why the nearest kingdom doesn't know her – especially since they are in the market for a wife for their crown prince. Rather desperately so…)_

She was given neither horse nor escort-

_(Perhaps volunteers were called for, and everyone shuffled and side-eyed his neighbor and said nothing? And none of the horses even of the royal stable liked her well enough to put up with carrying her if they weren't being required to by their regular handlers…)_

-and therefore arrived at the castle of the second king and queen-

_(Brainstorm cool names for the kingdoms, something that goes well with "-ian" on the end to refer to the citizens.)_

-in the middle of a dark rainstorm, drenched and rather pathetic instead of beautiful.

_(Though they do have some heavy-duty waterproof makeup; keep in mind for possible movie option.)_

She tapped rather timidly at the door, being unused to having to pound to get her way, but luckily they were royals who appreciated delicate sensibilities, and opened to her at once.

"I am a princess!" she declared immediately, before the astonished occupants of the castle – king, queen, and prince-

_(Note to Self: Fabricate some servants for future reference. They are to wear white lace caps and bob curtsies every time they speak. If they are given lines. "Yes, mum!" counts as a line.)_

-could even speak to inquire after the tragedy that had left her in such straits.

She repeated, to make sure they understood her expectations, "I am a **real** princess!"

The queen had her own set of priorities, despite the skeptical look her husband and son gave the bedraggled interloper.

"Of course you are, dear," she reassured the girl, leaving her dripping on the welcome mat-

_(NtS: Research medieval equivalent)_

-to pull her husband aside.

"If she is a real princess, we have finally found a suitable bride for our son!" she suggested with enthusiasm. One that doesn't have any other choice!

The king had a modicum of common sense, as kings of course should. "But how shall we tell she is a real princess? We have no proof other than her own word!"

The queen winked. "Leave that to me," she told him. And to the girl- "Come with me, I'll show you where you can sleep tonight."

(P.12) The princess almost followed her hostess without a word, tired and soaked and happy for any-old first-class accommodations, but the moment aside for whispering had alerted her to their suspicions, and she stood her ground.

"I am a real princess," she repeated her earlier announcement. "I'm sure you realize that means I cannot sleep with less than twenty mattresses **and** twenty featherbeds – though I won't be picky about the state of the sheets or the quality of the blankets – and heaven help you all if there's a single lump the size of a dried pea anywhere in the stack!"

Silence reigned, as silence always does when there's no sound occurring to fill it.

The king saw his wife was taken aback, and further guessed that her idea had somehow been stymied. "Plan B?" he said to her.

"No, I'm convinced," the queen declared. "That was a royal tantrum. Wake the kingdom and prepare for a royal wedding immediately!"

The prince, too, had lost all his concerns at this evidence of her royal sense of entitlement and delicacy. "Nothing would make me happier!" he declared. "Mother, you are wise, and Father, you are kind! Real princess, I will pledge you my love and fidelity and cheerfully count myself the luckiest of men forever after if you will take the only choice open to you and bear my son and someday scheme for his wife

_(Note to Self: No. No, no, no no no. That's all wrong. The characters aren't behaving with any sense of intelligence or logic. It just doesn't feel real. People won't like it, they won't identify with the characters. Scrap that and start at… Paragraph 12.)_

P.12 The princess followed her hostess without a word, tired and soaked and happy for any old first-class accommodations – but expecting the best. That was why she'd chosen a castle to shelter in, after all.

_(NtS: Insert scene where the queen instructs the maids to place an uncooked soup-pea under the twenty mattresses and twenty featherbeds.)_

The maids-

_(Brainstorm good, cool names for all characters, except the maids, who should be called things like Betty and Agnes.)_

-each bobbed a curtsy and twittered, "Yes, mum! right away, mum! thank you, mum!"

_(Make it clear that "mum" is colloquial for "ma'am", a term of respect. Not "mom", which would be a familiar term of endearment. Most readers should know that, but you can't assume anything these days.)_

While the maids were preparing the bedchamber-

_(They can do this in a moment if it's off-stage or off-screen. And never mind logistics.)_

-the queen took the visiting princess into the dressing room, where a hot bath waited because serving staff is grossly underrated, and totally anticipated the need from the first soft tap at the door. Because they were both girls, the queen stayed while the princess undressed and got in the steaming tub and neither of them felt the least bit self-conscious. Both of them were focused on the wardrobe.

"I have many pretty gowns you can choose from to replace the one that is a total loss after one complete soaking," the queen said. Ignorant, as all royalty should be, of a laundress' ways.

"There are so many," the princess sighed approvingly. "And shoes? And jewels?"

"Of course," the queen answered. "I have had my son's whole life to prepare for this moment, after all. And not much else to do in the meantime, evidently. And this is what you have to look forward to, once you've popped out my son's heir – except you'll have a mother-in-law hovering

_(Note to Self: Scratch that last sentence. Or two.)_

"I suppose," the princess responded reluctantly, "I should choose a night-gown…"

"How sensible!" the queen said. "Yes, I have eight of those for you…"

At this point Betty-Agnes popped into the dressing-bathroom and bobbed a curtsy. "Bedroom's ready, mum!"

"Thank you, you're dismissed," the queen said. Betty-Agnes bobbed another curtsy and disappeared. "We'll just take this one on the end, then," the queen said to the princess. "It's late, after all…"

The princess donned the understandably-sumptuous night-gown and the queen showed her into the bedchamber, where of course her attention focused on the bed. Evidently no questions needed to be asked about the number of mattresses and featherbeds-

_(NtS: Research the differences between the two terms?)_

-and without insurmountable difficulty, the princess climbed into _(onto?)_ the bed.

"Sleep well," the queen smirked.

She herself passed an eagerly-restless night til the morning, when she could again enter the bedchamber-

_(Or wait til the princess was shown to the breakfast table by a curtsy-bobbing maid? Otherwise eyebrows might be raised at the king and prince being present in the bedchamber of an unmarried princess, intended betrothal or not…)_

-and ask the harried-looking princess, with a sly wink to her menfolk, "How did you sleep last night?"

The princess was grouchy from lack of sleep, and in any case she hadn't yet rethought her policy of honesty being the best.

"It was a terrible night," she said, and didn't mean her lonesome journey or the frightening storm, or even a cold she might have caught, keeping her awake with a dainty sniffle. "I am black and blue all over – take my word for it, for I won't show you while there are boys present – from tossing and turning and feeling a lump all night."

"I'm convinced!" the queen declared. "She is a real princess, because of course royalty is to be identified by arrogance and absurd sensitivity and appalling manners!"

"And I'm still thrilled to claim her as my wife-to-be!" the prince spoke up. "Perhaps the reason you're so desperate to find someone who **has** to marry me is because you raised me so that **my** manners are

_(Note to Self: No. No. No. Of course not. Still all wrong. Let me think, let me think… How about-)_

(P. 25) The princess was grouchy from a lack of sleep, but she'd learned her lesson about speaking her mind if she came across as rude, so she said, "It was a wonderful night and I slept so deeply I feel thoroughly refreshed and so grateful for your hospitality!"

The queen gasped, because – her plan had gone awry, but she found she genuinely liked the girl and wanted to be able to care for her needs and perhaps a girl like this could teach her grandson not to be a spoiled little

_(NtS: Nope. That won't work either. Even if the princess' moment of change is believable, it strains credulity that it would prompt the queen to become a better person also… So then try-)_

(P.22) The princess donned the understandably-sumptuous night-gown and the queen showed her into the bedchamber, where of course her attention was focused on the bed.

_(Now, even if she has been used to a plethora of mattresses and featherbeds, twenty of each is arguably exaggeration. And she's fully aware that her selfish attitudes and behavior have cost her a kingdom and crown of her very own… at the least she'd be surprised?)_

"Oh my goodness, forty mattresses and featherbeds, where have you gotten all of these in the middle of the night? Your hospitality is… overwhelming."

_(At the most, suspicious.)_

"Why have you ordered all these brought for me, since I cannot prove I am the royalty I claimed? It is some bid to seal my fate in marriage to your undesirable son

_(Gosh, writing is harder than I thought. This MS is a mess. I don't even like any of these characters anymore. Rip, rip, rip. Start over.)_

* * *

Once upon a time in a kingdom far away, there was strife, as there often was in small European kingdoms in those days. The princess found herself alone _(slash escaping from her pursuing enemies)_ and because the first place they would look for her would be with their kingdom's closest neighbor or even an ally _(who would certainly be aware of her existence and identity, even if they weren't familiar with her appearance…) _she traveled-

_(Note to Self: A far distance? On her own without escort? I feel a girl like this could make it, if she were portrayed as capable and level-headed and accustomed to humility in her needs.)_

-to another castle.

_(NtS: Not an obvious ally, or she could identify herself and ask for aid… but alone and on foot she'd have been caught up with, unless we can believe she's also the sort of princess who's able to evade mounted pursuers who'd probably have called out the hounds…)_

This castle belonged to a king who'd been a friend of her father's in boyhood, til disagreements in policy had caused a falling-out and very stiff and distant and only-when-required relations from then on. The princess planned to remain anonymous until she was certain she could depend on the loyalty of former friends to aid her in regaining her kingdom rather than turn her over to their enemies.

_(Too much? Maybe it would be easier to say she was traveling through or nearby, and there was an accident causing her to lose her carriage and escort and all their horses. __**Bandits**__ is always a good plot device.)_

Reaching the castle doors after full dark in the pouring rain, she pounded at the door, desperate for sanctuary. Luckily they were royals who appreciated desperation as well as delicate sensibilities, and opened immediately.

"Thank you! I'm sorry," she panted as soon as she was able. "If I could trouble you for a place to sleep tonight – and perhaps a change of dry clothing, anything will do…"

The queen was already turning away, gesturing for the maids _(Agnes, Betty, whoever)_ to take care of the unusual guest in their own quarters, but the king and prince shared a skeptical look over the bedraggled state of the interloper. She had, after all, bypassed two inns and a decent tavern in approaching the palace.

"Whatever can have happened to you – a young lady alone without escort or place of shelter on a night like this?" the king exclaimed.

"Oh! Well, you see…" She was probably going to make up some story, ordinary but believable, but in pushing her sodden hair back from her face-

_(Note to Self: Expertly done in natural-looking but beauty-enhancing waterproof makeup.)_

-the king caught a look at a ring she wore on her hand. As it happened, it bore her family's crest, which he recognized and so instantly divined her identity.

"But surely you are the princess from the kingdom of-

_(NtS: Something that sounds even cooler when -ian is added to the end. Or even some abbreviated form.)_

The queen whirled back. "A princess! Are you sure?"

"Please, it doesn't matter," the girl tried to say. "I'm only a stranger asking for a warm, dry place to sleep."

"And clothes," the princes reminded her. For curiosity's sake he imagined on her a few of the gowns his mother had fancifully prepared for the day he accepted he had to wed one of the empty-headed simpering girls paraded past him like a marriage market.

"Yes, please," the girl said. "Anything, it doesn't matter. I come to you as a beggar, you see, and therefore must be grateful and perfectly content with whatever is to spare."

The queen gave her husband a look, as she pulled him aside. "If she is a real princess we have finally found a suitable bride for our son!" she suggested.

"One that doesn't have any other choice?" her husband responded wryly. Then again, if she was who he thought she was, a marriage alliance with their kingdom might be just the thing she needed to successfully combat the strife in her home kingdom.

_(This follows the uprising storyline more naturally than the bandit attack. Perhaps insert a section in the early chapters to demonstrate this princess is an accomplished hunter/gatherer, which will explain how she is able to anticipate and evade her pursuers, as well as her familiarity with and acceptance of humble surroundings. Perhaps there should be an action sequence to show that she has had her trusty steed for resource until very recently – perhaps it was shot out from under her and she subsequently tumbled over a cliff near at hand into a convenient river, and thus was carried away to relative safety. Or perhaps she deliberately parted company with her horse, trusting that her pursuers would follow the equine tracks while she hid her own climbing said cliff. Or rocky hillside. Or shallow stream.)_

"But what makes you think our son would be amenable?" the king added. Before they both turned to see that the prince had guided their guest to the hearth of the receiving hall, and gently placed his own jacket over her shoulders, as she held a bundled-up handful of her own wet hair out of his way.

"I will prove she is a princess, leave it to me," the queen decided. Raising her voice, she addressed the girl as she moved toward a doorway leading to the innermost apartments of the palace. "Come with me – I'll show you where you can sleep tonight."

"Thank you." The princess returned the jacket to its owner with a tired smile for him, and followed her hostess without another word, weary and soaked and happy for any old accommodations.

_(Note to Self: Insert scene where the queen lets the maids in on her plan. Bobbing and curtsying ensues.)_

The queen took the visiting princess into the dressing room with its waiting hot bath.

"My goodness your servants are swift and attentive," the princess complimented, disrobing without self-consciousness due to the disgusting state of her clothing.

The queen was focused on the wardrobe. "I have many pretty gowns you can choose from to replace that one."

"It is a total loss, I'm afraid," the princess agreed ruefully. Even washed and dried, it would remain ripped and stained – it would cover her, but probably draw attention if and when she left this castle. And if she remained, it might be considering insulting to her hosts to insist upon wearing it in such condition.

"Silk or satin, which do you prefer? And what color scheme, I have several shades of each and quite a few that come close to being more than one color – for instance this silk that could be called pink or purple – or this satin that might be considered yellow or green, depending on your fancy."

The princess looked over her shoulder, pausing in the scrubbing of skin and hair and taking somewhat aback. "Oh, those are very fine! I really couldn't choose – perhaps one you don't mind donating? Are all of those yours, Your Majesty?"

"This isn't my wardrobe," the queen said, selecting her personal favorite, the pink-purple silk. "I've been constructing this collection ever since the birth of my son, in anticipation of his wedding day, when I shall gain a daughter."

"Oh," the princess said faintly. "Well, if you're sure she won't miss one… but oughtn't I have a night-dress first? Those gowns weren't made to be slept in…"

"How sensible!" the queen said. "Yes, I have eight of those for you…"

At this point Betty-Agnes-

_(Note to Self: or Kitty! That's a good maid's name.)_

-popped into the dressing room and bobbed a curtsy. "Bedroom's ready, mum."

"Thank you, you're dismissed," the queen said. Kitty bobbed a curtsy and disappeared.

"I'll just take the one on the end, then," the princess said, toweling herself dry and wrapping her hair to keep it from dripping. "It's late, after all, I am sorry if I'm keeping you up."

"Not at all," the queen said, approving of the way the sumptuous never-before-worn nightgown looked on the princess. She showed her into the bedchamber, where of course her attention focused on the bed.

She hadn't demanded twenty mattresses and twenty featherbeds, nor did she comment upon the surprise of finding such excess. Perhaps she assumed that extras were kept in this particular guest-room, stacked on the bedframe to keep them off the floor. She did eye the height a bit askance because evidently she was expected to sleep upon all of them – but there was the difficulty of clambering up to the top, and then remaining upon them once asleep. One restless toss too many in any direction, and the fall would probably kill her… She immediately dismissed the notion as the intent of her hostess. No, surely not.

"What generosity!" she said instead. "I think I will rest a moment by the fire to allow my hair to dry before I lay my head upon the pillow – but of course you needn't wait up with me, Your Majesty, good night!"

"Sleep well," the queen smirked, and departed.

Once alone, the princess sighed, and eyed the stack of bedding. It was a precarious climb, and took a few false starts and near-falls, but soon the princess had the topmost featherbed – okay, the top two; she'd been sleeping on the forest floor and dozing in her saddle, after all! – on the floor by the room's warm hearth. Sheets and covers made no difference there, and the softness beneath her at this point in her ordeal was heavenly.

She slept long and hard, and didn't wake for breakfast, and didn't wake til the queen – accompanied by her husband and son out of concern for their guest – came knocking on her door.

The princess had half a moment to realize where she was, to leap up and shove the two featherbeds out of sight behind the bed before the door opened and the agitated queen entered the room. The two men lingered in the doorway, averting their eyes in gentlemanly exercise of interest.

The queen asked the rather harried-looking princess – with a sly wink that her menfolk didn't see with their eyes averted – "How did you sleep last night?"

"It was a wonderful night," the princess said honestly. "I slept so deeply. It was very refreshing and I'm so grateful for your hospitality."

The queen gaped because her plan had gone awry. "It wasn't… a terrible night? You're not… black and blue all over from tossing and turning and feeling a lump all night?"

If there was a lump, she never would have felt it, as bruised and exhausted as she'd been after traveling alone in the storm. If she had felt a lump, she never would have said so, knowing how rude it was to complain about the kindness of strangers, when one couldn't prove a claim of equality and such proofs or complaints wouldn't endear her to her benefactors in any real way.

"Truly," the princess said. "I am so pleased with the care you've given me and the compassion you've shown."

"You missed breakfast," the prince volunteered, unable to keep her nightgown-clad figure from edging into the side of his vision. "But there's plenty left, if you're hungry."

"And then maybe we can discuss your situation," the king added gently. "Perhaps also what sort of aid we might provide, in return for whatever resources you are willing to negotiate?"

The princess knew she had no ready or expected access to any resource save her own self. Arranged marriages were not uncommon, and she was well aware that this family was still looking. But the way the prince kept glancing bashfully toward her bare feet, and the kind, humorous, intelligent way he'd spoken to her the previous night, disposed her to believe that the exacting standards that left him single when he was of marriageable age, might be a point in his favor.

"Yes, thank you," she said. "If you will excuse me, I will dress and join you."

The king reached into the room to grip his wife by the elbow and steer her gently out so the door could be closed on the princess' privacy.

And when she emerged in a simple gown of forest-green linen, her hair tied in a band around her head and with her family ring her only ornament, the queen retired from the breakfast room in frustration, throwing up her hands and declaring defeat.

The king took note of the light in his son's eyes and the blush on the girl's cheeks at the prince's attention. And magnanimously, unequivocally offered the princess unconditional sanctuary as long as she required. The rest of negotiations were put off for another day.

_(Note to Self: Perhaps add a summary of the developing romance? And should the offer of an army to retake her kingdom come before or after the declarations of love and promises of marriage? Perhaps the mention of jointly-held kingdoms to be distributed among the offspring because expectations are for many, from the lovely, willing couple?... This writing lark is harder than it looks. I give up.)_

The End


End file.
